Work Text
The sound of shuffling outside your bedroom stirred you from your pleasant dreams. You sighed in irritation, looking over to the other side of the bed to find it weightless and empty. Of course. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes in a vain attempt to rid them of any weariness as you left your bed and trudged over to where Sammy usually was at this time. Sure enough, there he was, sitting at the kitchen table with several unfinished sheets of music splayed across the surface in front of him. His finger tapped to the rhythm of the sheet he currently read, quietly humming the notes of his piece. Leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, you watched him work for a few moments until you heard him stop humming. “Tired?” You asked quietly, causing him to snap out of his focus. Looking up to you with exhausted eyes, he simply sighed heavily and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. “Yes… but this piece needs to be finished before the next deadline, and I can’t focus at work because of that damned Ink Machine!” His voice was strained as he answered – it sounded like he was on the verge of another breakdown. Stepping forward, you placed your hand on the papers in front of him, though you were careful not to crumple the sheets or smudge the ink as you did so. Staring him down, you kept your voice low and quiet but stern enough to get your point across. “Go to bed.” He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to object, but thought better and kept quiet. He knew you were stubborn, especially when it came to his own well-being. You once locked him in your shared bedroom when he was sick so you could call in to Joey and convince him to give Sammy the day off (he wasn’t exactly sure what you said to Joey that made him agree to give him time off, but you just gave a vague answer when asked about it). So, instead of arguing, he simply stood up and allowed you to lead him back into the bedroom. “I… suppose it could wait until morning…” He muttered as you both left the kitchen. Once you were both tucked away in bed, you wrapped your arms around him – both to cuddle him and to prevent him from getting up and going back to work. Not that you were physically strong enough to hold him down, of course, but it helped you feel more secure. As he wrapped an arm over you, you could feel the tension leave his body as his breathing slowed into a steady rhythm. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you held him close. “Goodnight, Sammy.” “Goodnight, (y/n).”